


Snowdrift

by saccharineSylph



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Quadrant Confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:03:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saccharineSylph/pseuds/saccharineSylph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With their ship locked in ice, a Piratess and a Privateer take shelter from a snowstorm.</p><p>A drabble that got away from me??<br/>For snowchildhero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowdrift

The frost clung to the trees, wrapping the branches in a shroud of white ice. Even the nearby bay had frozen, trapping the HICS Swordfish in its clutches. The men complained, of course, and the lowbloods were the first to be culled for heat, or possibly worse. They were inexperienced lads.  
  
At the very least, Spinneret and the Orphaner had experienced the harshness of the Dim before.  
  
Spinneret's steps were light atop the snow, not sinking an inch. She paced idly about the Orphaner's shoulders as she trudged through the snow, hoping her spite and amusement might keep her warm.  
  
"Goodness me, maybe now you're rethinking the bare arms trend, Orphaner?"  
  
The Spideress grinned down at him, grateful for her coat. Her partner snarled in return, seized a slim ankle and gave a strong yank, enough to pull her beneath the snow's surface. She met him with an undignified shriek, clawing at whatever she could reach until she tumbled into the nearest snowdrift.  
  
"You mean to cull me!" The Piratess wailed.  
  
"That is the fuckin' idea, Spinneret. Though I w-was hopin' somethin' a bit more dignified than this."  
  
"Come now, Orphaner, do have some pity."  
  
He did not reply.  
   
All too eager to fill the silence, Spinneret declared how silly it was the men were so cold, and how ridiculous the Orphaner appeared in his vest and cape, the material dragging behind him.  
  
The blueblood scurried her way across the snow, her long dark coat lashing against the wind. The snowdrift had soaked her, and while she was equipped with sleeves, the material was thin, with little insulation for this kind of weather. Her shoulders bunched up by her ears and her fangs began to chatter in short order.  
  
"There's a cabin up ahead," she called over the wind.  
  
Naturally the Spider beat the Orphaner to cabin, and rather than using common sense to open the door, she fussed with a window until she could shimmy her scrawny limbs inside. Swears shot up the chimney as she toppled inside in what had to be a most undignified pile. By then Dualscar was able to elbow his way in- those built arms were good for some things, it seemed.  
  
The cabin was abandoned and had been for many sweeps, smelling of dust and moths and rot. Still, it was dry, and Spinneret was already snapping dilapidated furniture in half to pile in the center of the tiny building.  
  
"W-wonder w-what happened to the last occupants?"  
  
"Really, how droll, the Orphaner himself wonders what became of a set of insignificant landwellers in a hive? Goodness, man, you are becoming soft."  
  
He bit back. "If they're comin' back I'll hav-ve to blast them, that's all. Makes a right mess a' ev-verythin."  
  
The Orphaner watched her hands as she fished through the leather pouch she kept on her hip. Her fingers trembled, her nails losing their golden hue to pale greyblue.  A gentle pull of her mind and her dice orbited around her. She rolled with a twist of her wrist, spilling the dice at her feet.

 

 _8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8._ Naturally.  
  
A fire burst in the pile, diminishing the tinder to embers. Spinneret fell into a crouch beside the hearth, quaking. Her breath clouded the air.  
  
Seadwellers naturally had thicker skin, meant for housing heat- even the fabrics of his clothing were meant for quickly wicking water away. Soon enough he was dry, and quite comfortable. He took great pleasure in watching his dark lover shake and hiss at the temperature.  
  
"Spin." He chuckled, "Are you cold or something'?"  
  
"Fuck you, Orphaner," she snapped before calming herself, "It wouldn't do not to be."  
  
"I'm pretty sure that's a fuckin' double-negativ-ve."  
  
"Are you daring to correct my grammar now-wuh-wuh-wuh?"  
   
Her voice had become thick and throaty as she swallowed. The cold was sinking into her chest. If he let this continue, she would be frozen solid as her ship by nightfall, regardless of a fire.  
  
"Also that pet name you've given me is completely demeaning."  
  
"So you like it?" He snickered.  
  
"I hate it, you braggart."  
  
"As intended, then."  
  
He could hear her teeth clicking together, her multifaceted eye dilating. Shrugging his thick cape from his shoulders, he swept the heavy material around her small shape. The thanks he received was a swift smack on the nose with her sharp claws.  
  
"I'm not a wriggler! You are not my moirail!" She hissed.  
  
"No, but I'd rather kill you than w-watch you fuckin' freeze to death."  
  
"Then do it, cow-wuh-wuh-ward."  
  
"You don't mean that and you know-w it."  
  
Despite her lashing, Spinneret wrapped herself tight in the cape, savoring its heat, and his scent that clung to it. It smelled like the sea. Already her tense posture began to sag, her cerulean lashes drooping against her cheeks.  
  
"Shove over, why don't you? Be a gentletroll."  
  
Without much other warning, Spinneret knocked his arms open and draped herself across his lap, soaking in what little bodyheat she could from his cool blood.  Eventually her temple came to rest against the ball of his shoulder, since she had no other place to lay her head.  
  
Their breath mingled, and she finally stopped shaking so desperately. The heat rendered her comfortable, and even quiet and tolerable for the time being. The Orphaner took the time to admire his beautiful kismesis, the slope of her nose, the breadth of her brow and how she almost looked sweet while relaxed.  
  
Then of course, she had to ruin it by opening her pretty mouth.  
  
"You smell like a drowned squeakiest."  
  
"I can name some netheregions a' yours that don't smell all that different, Mindfang."  
  
Her fangs sank briefly into his shoulders, avoiding his gills. Just enough to indent, though not enough to puncture. A lovebite. Or, a hatebite, in this circumstance.  
  
The Spideress' entire body shuddered with her sigh, reverberating into the slits of his gills as she released her bite.  
  
"Shut up, it's late. The sun will rise soon."  
  
Dualscar arranged himself to prop against the wall furthest from the shoddy windows, so the sun might not cross his path.  
  
"You'll hav-ve daymares an' kick me all night w-without any spoor."  
  
"And you'll enjoy it, so hush, you masochist."  
  
"You hush, I thought you w-were tryin' to sleep?"  
  
"I find that rather difficult while you try to speak to me, it leaves me with a headache and the need to scrape barnacles from my ears."  
  
Her drawl quieted with the rest of her, as her body sank into the grooves of his, swaddled close in the violet cape. Any Kismesis worth his salt would continue to pester and torment his partner to keep her frustrated and himself amused.  
  
Yet the Orphaner let her knead him with sharp claws and settle down into a heavy, contented sleep, drinking in the firelight. He was satisfied enough to watch her, mop her hair dry with his scales and smooth errant strands from her face. One fin turned to listen for any invading beasts that might steal the privilege of killing his companion.  
  
It was becoming harder to hide his twisting, flipping spade for her. She infuriated him, of course. But she just as easily bewitched him. Her hair could be so soft, and her eyes so enchanting. And the way that she ran her sword through men without even twisting- delightful.  
  
The love of his heart was far away, and never once turned her eye toward him in court. Perhaps he should cling to what he had.  
  
What he had was currently drooling down his shirt.  
  
 As the snow whirled, he decided that would be enough for now, and to not take his chances with a gamble. That was her specialty after all.


End file.
